Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles
by starbuckx
Summary: One hundred different moments of the HarryGinny relationship. Because love has different sides ...
1. Fan

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 1/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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082. Fan.

She'd been the President of the 'Harry Potter Fan Club'. And not only metaphorically speaking, no; she was talking about the real source of embarrassment here, complete with secret meetings, singing valentines, and even undisclosed photos she'll deny she's ever seen if anyone finds out. Secret photos taken with a Muggle camera because she'd found out that in those photos he wasn't moving; he was standing still for her to contemplate.

But, of course, she'd put that behind her. She'd grown up, and once she wasn't little Ginny Weasley anymore the meetings stopped, the members carried on with their lives, and she was left with a stack of pictures she shouldn't want anymore.

For a brief period of time she'd contemplated burning them. It was just the thing to do to prove, if only to herself, that she was indeed over him, that she was an independent, young woman, free of the ghost of Harry Potter.

But then, there he was, in her head, sword in hand, rescuing her from the monster, just as he'd appeared that day in the Chamber of Secrets, and the trembling in her hands was enough to understand that she could get over him, but she could never completely get him out of her heart.

So the pictures lay, in a brown, musty envelope in the bottom of her trunk. But they stayed, and so did he.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: I've got a big table of prompts, and I intend to finish this. God only knows I promise to write at least two or three a week, and I've got a few already finished, so you'll get one drabble a day for the first week or so. After I'm doing with my prompts, if you guys still want me to go on, I'll even take suggestions. And, what the heck, if I like the suggestion more than the prompts, you might get it right way, so suggest away!_


	2. Sushi

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 2/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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083. Sushi

He took her far away from the country, far away from the school, far away from her family. He extended his hand, and she reached out to grab it, and together they left memories and fears far behind, to try a new beginning, far away, together.

A year had passed. Her vibrant hair was now down to her waist, and he found one of life's greatest pleasures was to tangle and untangle the silky threads as he deposited sweet kisses down her spine. He could tell she was growing weary of the constant traveling, of the time apart from her family, of a different bed and a new dish for lunch every day. But one look at her eyes told him that she wasn't getting weary of him, not even close.

"What in Merlin's name is this, Harry?" she asked as she held up a little rice ball stuffed with different colored 'things'.

"I believe they call it sushi, my love." He smirked at her, and she gave him the evil eye as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"No," she proclaimed. "This time you go first."

He smiled bravely, took a chunk of the green stuff beside the plate, and then put the rice ball in his mouth. Twenty minutes later, after he'd downed about a million little cups of that absurdly awful thing they dared to call tea he reached out for her hand again, and decided it was time to go home.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: This was weird to write. Imagine trying to come up with a situation for HP and sushi! laughs But it was fun, nonetheless. I'm glad to see people are reading this, and it would be amazing if you took the time to drop me a line. I know it's short, but it's exactly what I want it to be ...little glimpses at a life that could be. _


	3. Bathroom

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 3/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.  
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02. Bathroom 

She'd been hiding out in the bathroom for twenty minutes, twenty long, agonizing minutes. If he could only figure out what was wrong with her, then maybe he could stop his manic pacing in front of the lath of wood that separated him from Ginny, take a deep breath, and just head to the other bathroom. It's not like they only had the one.

But she'd been hiding out in the bathroom for twenty-three minutes now, a muffled voice assuring him that she was fine every time he asked. But she was still locked in their bathroom, and he couldn't help the pacing.

Something had to be wrong, right? Women didn't just lock themselves in random rooms because they felt the sudden urge to be alone. At least, he didn't think so, and as much as he would have liked to go in search of Hermione so she could help him figure out what the problem was, he wanted to handle this alone. Here was his wife, locked in the bathroom. There had to be something he could do.

"Ginny?" he asked, for what seemed the umpteenth time. "Are you all right in there?"

He had a wand. He could open the door. She was perfectly aware of that, wasn't she?

"Darling, I just want to make sure you're all right. I'm a bit worried."

Still no sound. Bloody hell, didn't she know he was getting closer to busting the door open, _Alohomora_ be dammed!

"I just want to talk to you, Gin. Just talk."

The door opened slightly, and red-rimmed eyes stared at him intently. He knew it!

"Ginny, baby, what's wrong?" he opened up his arms and cradled her against him when she came willingly. "I'm sure that, whatever it is, there's no reason to cry."

She pulled back, looked him in the eyes. There was something there, something that defied words. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, opened them again. Then she burst into tears.

He held her close, scared beyond belief. There hadn't been tears in her eyes, not for the two years of their new life together, not since they'd come back from battle, bloodied and scared, but victorious.

He'd sworn to himself he'd do anything to keep the tears from her eyes, and yet, here she was again, crying. And he couldn't even figure out what was wrong.

"Gin..." he started, but this time her fingers were in his mouth, and the tears still pooled in her eyes, but she was also smiling, a radiant smile he'd never seen before.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered softly in his ear, and the pool of tears in her eyes suddenly made sense, because, try as he might, the tears in those brown eyes were merely a mirror of the tears a pair of green eyes now held.

_To be continued ... _

_A/N: First of all, I have to say, my dear reviewer, that sushi tastes good. At least, I happen to think so. It's a very unique combination of flavors, and I've found that some people don't like it, but that wasn't the issue with Harry. No, the issue with Harry was the little green stuff he ate WITH the sushi. It's called wasabi, and no matter how many little cups of green tea you drink afterwards, it's very, very HOT. Harry didn't know, so he took a chunk of it, and a chunk is ...way too much. _

_VanillaBean75, I tried to leave it open, so everyone could make their own assumptions, but I like to think they've been on the run for one year because, after defeating Voldemort, Harry wanted to take space, and took Ginny with him on a tour of the world. It sounds so much nicer. :)_

_Most of these drabbles are just that, drabbles, they don't have a real plot, and don't follow the usual rules of stories, aka, no real endings. I'm just trying for glimpses of what their life could be here._

_And, since I'm feeling Christmasy. I'll make this offer. I'll write one of this for the first person who asks! Just tell me what you want. _


	4. Gun

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 4/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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036. Gun

She carried a gun with her. In a way, it made her feel safer than a wand ever could. In order to kill someone with a wand you had to mean it. A gun was much simpler. It would work, even if you were trembling, even if your knees were giving out, and your mind wasn't clear. It could cause harm even if your heart couldn't comprehend why you would want to shoot him, even if you loved him too much to want to injure him.

In that regard, a gun was much straightforward than a wand would ever be.

So she carried a gun with her. She went about her unremarkable life as usual, waking up to the same empty bed every day, hoping this was the day something different would happen, this was the way it would end. The sight of her pale face and black hair in the mirror made her stomach turn, and yet, for the sake of everyone around her she refrained from grabbing her wand back so she could make it red again. Instead she rebelled in the subtle uprising of making it a shade lighter every day, even though she wasn't supposed to be a red-head; she wasn't supposed to be a Weasley. She couldn't be his Ginny anymore.

And yet, every day, she carried a gun, and a lighter head of hair that fooled absolutely no one but those close to her and promised herself she would use it against Lord Voldemort himself and all his followers if they came for her, and if they didn't she would stand in front of Harry and shoot an arm, a leg, anything to keep him by her side.

_T__o be continued ... _

_ A/N: So, yes ...a weird little piece. In a way I hope it reflects how horrible I am for placing Ginny in this pretend situation, and how frustrating it would be. Comments are appreciated!_


	5. Office

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 5/100**

**Disclaimer: No, they're not mine. ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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037. Office

She wasn't surprised by the constant scrutiny as much as she was annoyed by it. Ever since that first day when Romilda Vane had cornered her in the Great Hall to ask questions about Harry's tattoos she'd understood that being with him meant being in the spotlight. It had never mattered.

Ten years later she often wondered why it was necessary for her to fake a smile every day as she entered her own office, or face the constant rumors of a breakup. This was the Ministry of Magic, and she understood gossip was a part of the dynamic. What she didn't understand was what made her the main attraction.

She was married to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived all those years ago, and the same one who, years later, would manage to defeat Voldemort for good. There was bound to be some attention on them as a couple, but the interest had developed into the point where her clothes and hairstyle were being scrutinized, and she couldn't over-indulge on sweets without having to deny pregnancy for two months.

It wasn't that she particularly cared, even if this wasn't the life she imagined when she used to daydream about him. She'd always envisioned love, and laughter, and fun, and they had that. They had that, and every day when she woke up with his nose nuzzling her shoulders she felt like she could float to work and carry on with her life without even noticing that, other than those people she'd known before Harry and Ginny had become an inseparable entity, she didn't have any friends.

She'd never envisioned herself so isolated, and she was astounded to notice she didn't care. Of all the things she'd dreamed of when she was little, she had the most important one, she had Harry. She didn't need anything else.

_To be continued... _

_A/N: I think this is one of my favorite ones. laughs Next to come will be an angsty one, probably tomorrow, and I've got a Christmas surprise for all of you who asked, and a a couple of funny ones, set in school. So, enjoy:)  
_


	6. Blood

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 6/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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088. Blood

Red.

Her hair was red, its brightness a sharp contrast against her pale skin as it cascaded down her shoulders like a heavy blanket, and she had to hold it back before kneeling down to stare into familiar green eyes.

She saw red, blood red. It was everywhere around him, and the field below was like a pool where she could drown, and he wasn't moving. His eyes were open and he wasn't moving.

Around her people were crying and screaming, joyful sounds, not the same screams she'd heard hours before as the battle raged at its fiercest. Now, everything was loud and foggy, and everyone was walking around, trying to get to someone, and crying, either from happiness, or sometimes, letting out a terrorized scream that could only mean death.

She didn't know where her family was, she hadn't seen anyone other than Ron in hours, and she could see Ron now if she only looked up, laying on the floor, Hermione in his arms. She thought they were crying, but she couldn't be sure of that. She couldn't be sure of anything, because everything she saw was red, and Harry — he wasn't moving, but his green eyes were piercing.

Blood. Red was blood, and green …green was hope, she thought as she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his, and before she knew it she as being crushed by a pair of arms which had just seconds ago lay limp, and he seemed to be finally coming out of her trance as he crushed her to him and muttered, in a voice half astonished, half delighted, "Finally, _finally_."

_To be continued ... _

_A/N: A bit of angst, for all of you. When I first concieved this, I had him dying on a fic just like this. But, for this story in particular I'm trying to show 100 moments that happened, not moments that 'could' have happened. And, since you've already got a couple of Post-War moments, then you know my Harry does not die. laughs Next up, a Christmas one, and rather amusing school piece. _


	7. Mistletoe

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 7/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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096. Mistletoe. 

The thing with mistletoe at Hogwarts was that it appeared in the most unexpected moments. Maybe it was the Founders idea of a joke, but for as long as anyone could remember mistletoe would be out of sight when you wanted it, and then, when you least expected it, it would be hanging just on top of your head. Usually when you were talking to the one person you'd never thought to kiss.

Yes, Ginny thought this magical mistletoe was probably someone's idea of a Christmas joke. And knowing her luck, mistletoe would probably appear over her head as soon as she managed to have a few words with Harry. This was exactly the reason why she'd started avoiding him ever since Neville had proven that this magical mistletoe had a knack for mischief, as his rather embarrassing incident with Lavender, had proved.

As much as she was dreading the sight of green these days, it seemed like Hermione was constantly on the lookout for it. Strangely enough, she never seemed to go anywhere without Ron these days, and Ginny wondered for a fleeting second if Hermione's lame attempts at concealing her real intentions were actually working.

Moments later, she was left to wonder about 'stupid gits', and 'insufferable know-it-alls", as from the other side of the hallway she caught Hermione and Ron, standing below the mistletoe. Time seemed to stand still, and then, Ron leaped out of the way and Hermione, poor Hermione, sped past Ginny muttering a few choice words.

"Ron, you IDIOT!" Ginny bellowed at him as she rounded on the offender, barely noticing Harry's bemused smile at his side. "WHAT in the WORLD is wrong with YOU? Did Mum drop you a few too many times when you were a baby?" She felt really angry all the sudden at her discovery that, as lame as Hermione's attempts at cover-up had seemed to her, Ron still hadn't noticed.

"WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST KISS THE GIRL, YOU DOLT?"

She was beyond angry now. It was almost like she was the one on the receiving end of such male ignorance. "It's not so hard, you know," she continued because Ron wasn't even fighting back, and that bothered her. "All you have to do, is this," she was saying, and then she found herself turning to the person next to Ron, and before her mind could comprehend that it was Harry, she was kissing him, and then she knew, without a doubt, that this was him, this was Harry, and this wasn't the way to solve things.

Seconds later, she found herself running along the same route as Hermione had taken minutes before, while behind her two dumbfounded boys gaped at each other, equal expressions of bewilderment on their faces.

_To be continued ... _

_A/N: Just a little Christmas cheer. I've got one for New Year's Eve, and a special one that was requested about Harry/Ginny getting into trouble in school, so all of those should be posted before the year is over. I hope all of you had a Merry Christmas indeed. :)_


	8. Truth

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 8/100**

**Disclaimer: No one gave them to me for Christmas, so they're still JKR's.**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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029. Truth 

She doesn't lie. She hardly ever does, even to get out of trouble. Truth is, she just doesn't have a problem with the truth, not anymore. She used to shy away from it, but she's not shy, little Ginny Weasley anymore, and she isn't afraid. Not of reality, anyway.

When she was little she used to lie all the time. At first she did it to protect her brothers, and later, she even did it to take the blame for them. No one ever believed her. And, so, this aura of incredulity had been built around her, and she thanked every day her six older brothers for that, for now she could do pretty much anything and no one would ever guess she was responsible.

And that's why she calmly stood in front of Professor McGonagall and readily owns up to the prank that caused a little 'incident' this morning at the breakfast table. Even the fact that her boyfriend is standing beside her, ready to take the blame for her, doesn't deter her from the truth.

Predictably, Professor McGonagall doesn't seem to believe her.

"Miss Weasley, do you really expect me to believe that you hexed the Slytherin table to repel the food? It's a rather complicated spell, Miss Weasley, and you want me to accept that you accomplished it all by yourself?"

"Yes"

"And, why would you do that Miss Weasley?"

"I figured it would be fun, Prof. McGonagall," she admits, and smiles, not needing to turn around to know that her smile matches Harry's perfectly, and that her little 'anniversary gift' will be one they'll be talking about for years to come.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: Lulu ala Rue, I do believe it was you who asked for them at Hogwarts, getting caught in something. So, here they are. In this chapter, Ginny's account, next one, Harry's account. Enjoy!_


	9. Lies

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 9/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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030. Lies 

He lies for her, and it doesn't really bother him. She hasn't asked him to, but as soon as he comes into the room he can see it in her eyes: She knows why he's here, and she appreciates it that much more because he didn't have to, and she didn't ask.

In truth, he was so floored by her keen understanding, her desire to provide him with one perfect morning of laughter that he would have felt like an ass if he didn't at least try to show his appreciation. For weeks he'd struggled with the importance of the date, wholly aware that girls somehow – expect romantic things, and he didn't know a thing about romance, or love.

So he'd gone for flowers, and heart-shaped candy, while she spent two weeks learning an incredibly advanced spell, woke up unbelievably early just to cast it, and then made sure he was in the Great Hall in the precise moment to appreciate it. It made his heart-shaped candy look incredibly cheap, and not at all reflective of his feelings for her, and suddenly it was important that she know, that she understand.

So, he took the blame for her.

"Miss Weasley, do you really expect me to believe that you hexed the Slytherin table to repel food? That's a very complicated spell, Miss Weasley, and you expect me to believe that you cast it all by yourself?" Professor McGonagall asks sternly, and Harry has to fight back a smile. It's rather obvious Professor McGonagall thinks Harry is the one who hexed Slytherin table, and now Ginny is covering for him. It would be insulting, if it weren't so amusing.

"Yes" Ginny responds easily, and Harry wonders how her cheek can be confused with innocence.

"And why would you do that Miss Weasley?"

"I reckoned it would be fun, Professor McGonagall," he hears Ginny proclaim, and he smiles brightly, remembering. It was, indeed, fun, the most fun he'd had in a while, and he made a mental note to thank Ginny for bringing laughter into his life, today, tomorrow, and every day, for as long as he could.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: And, this is Harry's account. giggles I hope you've enjoyed this fics so far, and I hope you this new year brings all of you wonderful things. :)  
_


	10. Father

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 10/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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039. Father 

He'd never had a father; he'd had an assortment of 'father figures', but Sirius had died, Remus always seemed too reluctant to take the position, and Mr. Weasley already had enough kids to contend with. He'd turned out all right, he thought, but the fact that he'd never had a father remained.

This is why he had no way of predicting what would happen once he stepped into the kitchen where he'd eaten so many meals, laugh, cried, received his OWL results, and even had a pair of spectacular shagging sessions with Ginny, and asked Mr. Weasley for permission to marry his daughter.

It was an old-fashioned thing, but he figured he owed it to the Weasleys. It wasn't as if Mr. Weasley was ever going to get another chance to do this, and he'd promised himself long ago, before that stormy night where his life had ended and started all over again, that if he got through the war unscathed, he'd do it the right way.

Of course, the right way took time. He didn't want them to be just another couple, falling into marriage after war just because they were too scared to let go of each other. So he went away to see the world, to forget the pain, and she came with him. And when they came back, and he saw that Mrs. Weasley's arms were open for him as well, he figured it was time.

"Er, Mr. Weasley," he asked as he stepped into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was calmly reading _The Daily Prophet_ and eating a rather large piece of cake. "May I have a word?"

"Harry, my boy, what's with the formalities? Of course you may. Come, sit down." Mrs. Weasley said as he signaled to the chair next to him.

"I think I'd rather stand, sir, if that's all right with you."

He could see Mr. Weasley's expression shift all the sudden into something like worry, and he suddenly felt anxious. Trying to smile, he decided to take a deep breath, and go for it.

"Sir, I'd like to ask for your permission to marry your daughter," he blurted.

Mr. Weasley's face showed a myriad of emotions. There was confusion, and acceptance, and Harry thought, maybe a bit of joy. But he wasn't saying anything, and Harry was starting to worry. He wasn't going to say no, was he?

But Mr. Weasley was smiling. "Harry, my boy, you don't even have to ask," he said kindly.

"I want to do this right, Mr. Weasley. Please, just let me do it right."

There was a look of understanding in Mr. Weasley's face, and suddenly his whole demeanor changed. He seemed to stare into Harry's eyes, before saying. "Not that I'm not glad to hear your intentions towards my daughter are honorable, young man, but you can't expect me to just say yes without asking a few questions."

Harry gulped.

"Where do you see yourself in five years? Where will you live? How many kids do you plan to have?"

He gulped again. What was this, a job interview?

"Er …I don't, I mean, I hadn't really thought of all that, I just …well, I want to be with Ginny all day, and I just want to be with her, and take care of her, and, well …I may not know those things, but I'll take care of your daughter, and I'll love her, and you won't have to worry, because I'll do right by her and …"

He struggled to continue as he looked into Mr. Weasley's eyes. It had to be the worst performance, ever. Truth was, he didn't know any of these things, all he knew is that he wanted Ginny with him, for good.

Before he knew it, Mr. Weasley's hand was on his arm, and there was a bright smile on his face as he whispered, "I'd say congratulations are in order. And I won't say welcome to the family. You've been a part of this family for a very long time."

_To be continued ... _


	11. Silence

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 11/100**

**Disclaimer: They're not mine, they belong to JK Rowling, who's giving us NEW canon, SOON! ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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008. Silence 

When you come out of the shadows of battle, she's frantic. You can see it in the way her eyes move wildly around, and her beautiful hair is plastered against her face, almost covering the freckles on her cheeks. She doesn't notice you, at first, even as you stand in her line of sight and take her in, breathing deeply, because if she's safe, if she's alive, then you've really succeeded

There's a hot air balloon in your chest, ready to burst, and she's standing there, alive, so you can let it all out. Yet all you do is stand there, and the balloon gets bigger and bigger until it's pushing against your chest painfully, but you can't take your eyes away from her, even if she's covered in dirt, and blood. Because she's alive, and so are you, and for the first time, you're beginning to realize that you could have all you've ever dreamed of.

She notices you at last, and all the fire seems to go out of her eyes. You see her breathe in, and you wonder if you look as shell-shocked as she does, but she doesn't give you much time wonder before she's in your arms, raining kisses down your face, tracing the muscles in your chest with her tiny hands, and suddenly it's like the pressure against your chest is deflating, and you still haven't moved to hug her back, and already she's feels like she's healing you of hurts you never knew you had.

You feel your throat constrict, and your eyes are suddenly filled with tears, and she doesn't seem to realize it, or maybe she does, for she's holding you tight and you can't keep it inside any longer. You've walked this far, but now she's here, and it doesn't feel like you can take one more step. She's with you, and everything is over, and you don't need to be strong anymore.

Silently, you collapse into the ground, and the tears are running down your face, and you're finally, finally together, and you hold her tightly in your arms you think that, though no word has passed between the two of you, she understands your silence perfectly. So you close your eyes and lean into her, take some of her strength, and let yourself begin to heal.

_To be continued …_

_A/N: A little more humor/fluff is coming next, and the TV drabble I was asked for should be posted tomorrow, at the earliest. I'm also thinking of doing something for Valentine's Day. Any ideas?_


	12. Suceed

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 12/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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028. Succeed 

By all accounts, this wasn't how he wanted to spend a quiet Sunday morning with his very new wife. No, he had a few other things in mind, none of which included any sort of technology. In fact, all they included was Ginny and him. Even clothes were optional.

But no, his darling wife had got it into her head that since he'd grown up with Muggles they would have Muggle things in their new home, like a _televisior_. Harry hadn't even felt pressed to correct her, and yet somehow, Ginny had gone off one day and come home with an enormous television, complete with a home theater system. He was sure she didn't know what she'd bought, but he couldn't fault her for it when she was smiling at him like that, and they were newlyweds after all, and the television hadn't been installed that day.

Which, of course, led to Harry wasting a beautiful Sunday morning that he could have spent in bed trying to get this stupid home theater system to work, only to realize he'd have to teach Ginny how to use it.

"I don't understand why you need all these buttons, Harry," she was saying, and he sighed as he tried to explain and she laughed about the really ingenious things Muggles could come up with.

Hours later, he felt like raising his arms in triumph, ready to take advantage of whatever was left of the day to head back to bed, where everyone was expecting them to be, when she turned around and smiled sweetly at him.

"All right, you've managed to show me how to work a _televisior_. Now I want to know how to program that little box that records things."

And this is how Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, war heroes, school sweethearts, and newlyweds, spent only their second Sunday as husband and wife.

_To be continued ... _

_ A/N: Aha, the infamous Ginny and the televisior incident. ;) I hope you all enjoy. We might go back to a little angst with the next few, but I want to post a fluffly Valentine's Day one first.  
_


	13. Author's Note

Author's Note:

I had put this story on hold. More than on hold, I had completely written off this story after _Deathly Hallows_. Now, I'm starting to realize that was a mistake. All this story needed, was a re-thinking. The chapters I had written will remain there – some have been made completely AU by_ Deathly Hallows_, some not so, but there they will remain. I quite like them. And, I will continue to write more. Harry and Ginny, in a way, help my clear my head. So, here we go again …


	14. Survive

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 13/100**

**Disclaimer: Alas, not mine. ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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"Promise me …" The words stuck in his mouth, as if he didn't really know what he wanted her to promise. _Promise me you won't leave your house. Promise me you'll be safe. Promise me one day you'll marry me and we'll have kids, and grow old together. Just promise me._

Dumbledore was gone, and the world had shifted. Nothing would ever be the same.

Her eyes were strong, determined, and yet she said nothing.

"I need you to promise me …" he repeated, and she reached out to grasp his hand, her touch an anchor in the middle of an angry storm. There were so many things he wanted to ask, and yet they all came down to one. "Promise me you'll survive." He finally managed, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Harry…" Chocolate eyes melted, and then went hard again, in an instant. "You know …as well as anyone that I can't …it's impossible."

"I need you to." His lips sought out hers, desperate, a confirmation, a plea. "Please, Ginny …"

"I can't promise you something like that. Because, Harry, even if I had the strength to stay away from a fight that involves every person I love – there are just, no guarantees."

"Lie to me. Lie to me if you have to. Right now, I just need to close my eyes and hear your voice promise me that you'll …I need to know …think ….that you'll be all right …because …I just ….Promise me. Please."

There was infinite softness in her touch as she pressed her body to his. Lips came in contact with skin, as she traced the contours of his face, placing kisses all across his jaw line.

"I promise I'll be waiting for you."

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: Any particular requests for the next one? I'm feeling inspired. _


	15. Taste

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 14/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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022. Taste

Pregnancy was a god-awful thing.

It made you bloated, and fat, and completely useless. And, then it made you realize how utterly fat, and bloated and useless you were, so you felt bad about all those things, and all you wanted to do was cry. Yes, indeed, being pregnant was a god-awful thing.

Even if you had the world's best husband. Which she had. Possibly. If he agreed to bring her some Parking cake. And perhaps some apple crumbles. And ice cream. Even if he'd already Apparated to the house three times before during the day. But hey, it was his fault she was pregnant. He'd wanted a baby. She was all for waiting. She wanted to play more Quidditch. But nooooooooooooooo, of course not. Harry-bloody-Potter-just-couldn't-keep-his-bloody-hands-off-her!

She looked at the chimney with distaste and discarded the idea right away. There was no way she was going to crouch in front of the fire again. No, this time she was going to go with the technology Harry was so fond of.

"_Accio mobile phone!"_ she called, and the little black contraption Harry had given her flew into her hand. She'd taken great care with it – you never knew when Muggle artifacts might be good for something. The DVD had certainly proved entertaining, especially now that she was as big as a whale and could not do anything more than sit in the armchair with her feet up.

It rang five times before Harry finally picked up. Ginny figured he didn't think she was actually paying attention to his instructions on how to use it, or that she'd always try the magical methods first, but to his credit, he did pick up.

"Gin?" his voice sounded half scared, half amused.

"Either you're home in five minutes or your son will be called Draco." Was all she said.

He was home before she'd had a chance to put the mobile phone down on the table.

"Are you all right? Is everything okay? Ginny?" His eyes were a bit frantic, though his wand wasn't out.

"I want cake."

"You …want …cake?" He said, very slowly. To his credit, there was no disbelief or laughter in his voice; it was a simple statement. Still, it made her angry.

"YES, I WANT CAKE! Is there a problem with that? I'M EIGHT AND A HALF MONTHS PREGNANT WITH YOUR CHILD AND I WANT CAKE! CAKE, I TELL YOU. IS THERE A PROBLEM WITH ME WANTING CAKE?"

"Eh …no?"

"Well, there better not be. Because I'm sitting here, and I'm bored, and you're there working …and …and …" her voice broke …"I'm all alone, and fat, and ugly …and there are probably …"

"Ginny …" He whispered, taking one step towards her.

"NO. I don't want your pity. I JUST WANT CAKE. AND ICE CREAM. GET ME MY CAKE!"

Harry nodded, and without another word he was gone, leaving her to her crying fit. Another of the reasons why being pregnant was a god-awful thing. It made you cry. All the time. About everything.

She didn't know for how long he'd been crying, but it must have been a very long time because she felt her eyes go swollen and her throat hoarse before she felt familiar arms lifting her up.

"I'm too heavy…" she tried to protest.

"Hush …I've got a surprise for you. I didn't exactly know which cake you wanted, so …."

Ginny giggled at the spectacle in her kitchen. Harry had brought a piece of, possibly, every type of cake that existed in the country, and some she'd never even seen before.

"Come on, Gin. Dig in. I brought enough to share."

She looked at him, and there was a glint in her eyes as she said. "All right, Potter, perhaps I can let you have a little piece.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: Not QUITE what I was planning to write when I started, but I cannot control my characters. This is for _DukeBrymin.

_I don't normally do this, but I wanted to take the time to ask that, if you're reading the story - and if you like it - especially if you're adding it to alerts and favorites, well ... a review would be nice. It's kind of depressing to upload a new story and see 2,000 hits in a day and only one review, if you know what I mean? _


	16. Furious

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 15/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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041. Furious

"You self-righteous prat!" she yells above the noise. He can barely hear her, but he can tell from the way her lips are pressed together as she frowns at him disapprovingly, that he must have done something wrong. He isn't quite sure what. His day has consisted of nothing more than work, and now the Quidditch game.

He hasn't really had much time to screw up.

"Do you have any respect for me? I swear, Harry …I wonder sometimes …if you really think before you open your mouth. Do you think being 'Harry Potter' means you get to say whatever you want, whenever you want to?"

It's completely awful of him, but he can think about nothing other than her mouth, as she lectures him. Her full mouth and how when she gets worked up her eyes smolder a bit, and she loses control over her words, sometimes even her actions.

When she's angry, Ginny completely lets go. It's not the only time she does it, but it's the most unguarded she is willing to be in public. And so he cherishes these moments, and sometimes he even takes delight in causing them.

This however, is not one of those times.

"What did I do?" he asks, and he knows it's the wrong question before the words have finished leaving his mouth.

But her reaction is priceless. Furious doesn't even come close to describing her. It looks like he's ready for physical violence, and Harry yearns to take her in his arms and make her forget about all her reasons for being mad. And he could, he's sure. But that would make it worse – because she'd get angry at him later, really angry – not the fun to make-up kind of angry.

"You …you! How can you even ask me that? You marched up to my coach and insinuated I was being under-utilized. And then, dare I say, you suggested you might have to look into the matter?"

Ah. So that's what it was about.

"All I said was that you should play more. And that if he had a hidden reason for why you weren't playing lately, then perhaps I needed to look into it."

"Idiot." She muttered. "I married the world's greatest idiot."

"Ginny, I really do think you need to stand up for yourself. He's taken away your starting position for no good reason, and he …"

"He HAD a good reason, you big prat. I told him I needed time to think. I said I wasn't sure I wanted to play anymore. I was going to talk to you about it, but you decided to be all Ron-like and talk to my coach beforehand. It's just …I thought."

"Gin?"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I THOUGHT! It isn't true, so it doesn't matter. And you …I don't need you to fight my fights, Harry. I didn't need you to do it when we were in school, and I certainly don't need it now. And you can stop looking at me like you want to kiss me and make it all better, because that's not going to happen. So, you stay away from me, Harry Potter! You hear me? I want you far away from me!"

There was fire in her eyes as she Apparated. The tracking spell he'd placed on her (one of many things he hoped she never found out) showed she'd retreated to her old bedroom, back at the Burrow.

He tried to fight against the smirk as he Apparated back home. Some would call him a masochist, but he actually loved fights.

They always led to great make-ups.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: It's been a long time coming, I know, I know. Sue me. Or, don't. The whole finishing your Masters and then moving back home from another continent thing is a pretty good excuse, I would think. This is for ., who asked for a fight, and a make-up scene. The next one is coming in two days. :) _


	17. Table

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 16/100**

**Disclaimer: JKR, they're yours!**** No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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_014. Table_

It takes her two whole days to come back home.

He goes to get her exactly four hours later, because that's exactly how much space he's prepared to give her – but all he finds are a smirking Molly and an impressive collection of spells preventing him from entering her former bedroom.

And so he's forced to do the thing he hates the most, go back home without her.

He skips work the next day, convinced she'll be back, and when she isn't he struggles between anger and despair. In the end he settles for silence, and doesn't even go to bed, just sits at the dining room table and waits.

Which is where she finds him, the morning of the second day, when she finally comes home.

Perhaps he should apologize, he thinks, but in the end, he doesn't feel like doing it. Maybe she overreacted, is the thought that goes through her head, but she doesn't have time to express it before his lips capture hers and she's realized that it might have just been two days, but God, she's missed him.

They don't even make it to the bedroom. That's what dining room tables are for.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: And they make up! Any other requests? I'll try to grant the first five who ask before I get into the milestones. :) _


	18. Myth

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 17/100**

**Disclaimer: I wish they were mine, I do, I do. But no such luck, they belong to JK Rowling. **

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_085. Myth_

He was more myth than person, after the war was over.

The great Harry Potter. Defeater of Voldemort. Great big coward.

Because fact was, he'd faced Voldemort and though it'd terrified him – facing Voldemort had come with finality. He could die. He was prepared to die. There was nothing else to think about, nothing afterwards.

And then Voldemort was no more, and he was faced with possibly having to live.

Strange how his very own hopes made that a scarier possibility than anything he'd ever faced before. Not that letting go of Ginny had been easy before – no, but at least then he didn't want anything more. He didn't dare think of the future, so their relationship had been firmly anchored in the present.

Now he wanted everything.

It made things extremely complicated. Made him run away at the sight of her red hair, because he felt his tongue tied with the desire to say so much – too much, and a nervousness he couldn't remember from before, palms sweating, heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest.

Facing Voldemort had been an easy feat, compared to the mere thought of facing Ginny Weasley and admitting he wanted her and just her – for good.

But he was a Gryffindor, so of course, it took a full three weeks and constant dark looks from Hermione to bring him face to face with Ginny. He didn't think they were talking about this when the phrase 'house of the brave' was thrown around. He also didn't think Hermione was one to talk, but he didn't voice his opinions. He had enough problems with Ginny.

Perhaps, he thought later, the results were more than worth it.

"Oh, Harry." She said, as if she'd just been waiting for him to come, and at the same time was a bit surprised to see him. "You're such a prat."

"I am." He admitted. In her eyes there was the real Harry, not the myth. She was looking right at him – wanted him, no one else. It was enough to make him wish he could go back and never let go of her hand, except he couldn't, except perhaps she wouldn't be alive. He didn't have a future to offer then – but he did so now. And he wanted it with her. "But I'm your prat."

She smiled, not a large smile that promised everything would be okay, but a soft smile, like she couldn't help herself, and there was sunshine and laughter and perhaps a shared future in that smile. Maybe she could also read his mind, because there was also a nod as she slowly reached out for his hand.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: I've been VERY VERY sick, so I'm sorry this has taken so long. I've got a few milestones coming up ...so hang on! :) _


	19. Relief

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 18/100**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to JKR. Sadly, I'm making no money out of this.**

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_007. Relief_

It sounds downright bizarre, but the strongest emotion Harry can remember at seeing James for the first time is relief.

He'd been scared ever since he first learned of Ginny's pregnancy. He'd done his best to hide it, of course, because Ginny seemed so at ease, so sure, that he didn't want to be the one to burden her with possibly unfounded fears. The terrible scenarios where, in one night, he lost the two most important things in his life were never mentioned out loud, but they were never far from his mind.

So while she picked out names, he researched worst case scenarios and kept in touch with how brutal life could be by visiting Teddy more often. It was like self-inflicted punishment, to watch him grow up without his parents and think of a world, where, perhaps, his kid would have to grow up without Ginny.

Of course, Teddy was always extremely happy to see him – and, in his childlike innocence, much more certain of the inevitable happy ending than Harry could be, for the first question out of his mouth, without fail, was always: "Is the baby here yet?"

The question never failed to fill him with a strange mixture of hope and despair.

When the day finally arrives, he's more than happy to take a step back, watch as Molly – like the expert she is – seems to take the lead. Every so often he tells himself he's not really behaving like a Gryffindor, but at this point, he figures he's earned being a coward for once.

Ginny's screams fill his ears, and he tries not to imagine her face, because he can't really comprehend that Ginny, his Ginny, would have turned into this woman. She'd never been one to complain.

He's not exactly proud of the fact that he couldn't resist – that when he heard the baby's first cry, he barged into the room just like he'd been instructed not to do. Any embarrassment he feels is short-lived, however, Ginny's pale, but smiling face and tiny bundle in her arms are the only things he can concentrate on.

It's with relief that he realizes he can go back to being a Gryffindor now. The ordeal is over. Or perhaps, he thinks, looking at James's face, it has only just begun.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: So, MIA. I apologize. Apparently I have found motivation again. Perhaps a few Christmas ones....:) _


	20. Early

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 19/100**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to JKR. I'm just having fun, making no money.  
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_015. Early_

Harry gets up way too early on Christmas morning.

It's a by-product of many bad Christmases spent with the Dursleys. It was best to be up early, and prepared. There was no sense in sleeping in and dreaming of good things. Harry had learned that the bad way, and even though it's been many years since he'd spent Christmas with them he still can't shake the habit of getting up at what Ginny would call an "inhuman hour".

His wife – and there's a smile that he can't contain at the thought of being able to call her that – sleeps mercifully on, and will probably not wake for many hours.

A late night of presents, decorations and more food than he's consumed since the first time Molly Weasley laid eyes on him is long past – and an afternoon of family and even more food looms ahead of him. Perhaps that's the reason he finds himself in the kitchen, looking for the tea kettle and feeling a bit like Professor Lupin. The thought makes him ache a bit. Remus isn't here anymore, after all.

But Teddy is.

There's the urge to Dissaparate, go wake up Teddy and watch him as he opens presents, but it's so early that he's sure even Teddy isn't awake yet, and he isn't ashamed to admit the urge is not as strong as the desire to go kiss Ginny awake. Maybe, with some luck, he can manage both, even if she tries to strangle him for waking her up so early.

He carries two tea-cups in his hands when he makes his way back into their bedroom. Ginny is now sprawled over the large bed, her head resting on his pillow. It makes him stop for a moment, consider all the other things he could be doing – but he consoles himself with the notion, that, for some things, they have forever.

And so he deposits the tea cups in the table and stares at Ginny for a long moment, before pressing that first lingering kiss on her cheek. Getting up early can sometimes be good – he thinks. It can help you appreciate the passing of time. He's come a long way, from the Dursleys, to this moment. Merry Christmas, indeed.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: A few more Christmas ones coming, one with Teddy, and perhaps a New Year's one. It's the season to be jolly and all that, right?_


	21. Fun

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 20/100**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to JKR. I'm just having fun, making no money.**

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**_019. Fun_

Ginny had never truly appreciated how fun Christmas – the grown up way, could be, till she got to spend Christmas morning with Teddy.

She'd be the first to admit she'd been a little put out when Harry had first suggested they get out of bed. He had this strange notion that Christmas began early, whilst her, she thought Christmas was about snuggling in bed till it was absolutely necessary to get up. But she didn't live at the Burrow anymore, and she understood that marriage was about compromises. And he'd brought her hot tea to bed – not hot chocolate, as she might have wanted, but hot tea, because he, the dear, understood that they had not only stuffed themselves with food the night before, but they were going to proceed to do the same later in the day. He was the perfect husband – or well, maybe not perfect – he could be a prat sometimes, but he was Harry, and he was hers – so she could get out of bed for him.

Coming from a large family, everything was always crowded, shared. Teddy was alone. Everything was a marvel. It made her quite sad, made her want to hug him till he understood that he had more than his grandmother, than no matter how many kids she had in the future, he would forever be hers, her special boy, even if she could never replace her mother.

It was strange to sit in the floor with Teddy and love him so much that you wouldn't trade this moment for anything – and at the same time, wish that his parents could be here. Often enough Ginny thought of what Tonks would have done when she held Teddy and she thought Harry was thinking of Remus too, when he held the boy in his arms. More often than not she felt like a poor substitute.

"'Inny" Teddy is calling out to her, and she smiles, crouches down to his level and pushes the deep thoughts away, saves them for another day. He smiles, glad for the attention and opens his little arms for her. Smiles widely – like she was the best Christmas present, and whispers. "Wuv you."

Ginny had never fully appreciated how fun it could be to love someone in a non-romantic way, and watch them love you in return. She looked over at Harry, eyes brimming with tears, and when she saw the tears in his eyes, she was sure he understood too.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: I meant to post this on Christmas Day, but A Series of Unfortunate Events conspired against me. Here it is anyway, and I hope to have another one out before the year is over. Happy holidays, everyone. I want to take this moment to thank everyone out there reading, those favoriting my stories, those that add me on alerts, and particularly the people who take the time to review. You make my day._


	22. Fair

**Story title: Harry and Ginny: A love story in 100 drabbles**

**Part 21/100**

**Disclaimer: _Can I have Remus? Just Remus? No? ::sigh:: Oh, okay. They're JKRs. I'm not even making a dime out of this. _  
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_011. Fair_

For months after the war is over he considers the unfairness of it all. He feels relief, yes, when Ginny touches him, or when he's with Ron and Hermione, and a bit of hope too, but most of the time, he just feels lost and altogether angry and desperate – and sad, most of all sad.

And then he goes to visit Teddy, sits by Remus and Tonks graves for longer than what he should – what's sane, and just talks to them. He thinks it's because he never got to talk to his parent's graves, but he quite likes the ritual, in a bittersweet way. It gives him a sense of connection.

He always leaves there itching to go see Teddy again, and struck, once again, with the unfairness of it all – the randomness of war. Ginny is always waiting.

In a way, it strikes him later, it's also not fair to expect her to be there, when he's so much of a wreck, and he tries to tell her so, one time, two times – and many times after that. She always smiles and interrupts him before he can get the words out.

So he stays – lives by the status quo, continues visiting the graves, visiting Teddy, grabbing hope where, and when he can. One day, he goes into the Burrow to look for Ginny and lets Molly hug him. A week later he's at Weasleys' _Wizard Wheezes____ waiting for Ron and George still won't let him pay for a thing. Then in the afternoon Andromeda is waiting for him with Teddy and a plate of pumpkin pie she'd saved for him, because she thought he'd been looking a bit thin lately._

When he gets home, he sits down and cries. Perhaps it was long overdue.

The next day things are still the same. Life is still unfair. But he figures his parents, Sirius and Dumbledore, they all knew that. Remus and Tonks didn't want to die, but they died for something. And being a jerk because they died isn't exactly a good way of honoring their memory.

He smiles. Instead of heading for their graves, today he's going to get ice cream with his girlfriend. And then maybe, afterwards, they can take Teddy to the park.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: We'll see each other next year, so Happy New Year everyone. Next time I'll have some James for you. He's been complaining about all the Teddy love. _


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